The crooked fingers hand tore off with a sharp movement the tissue hood that covered the prisoner's head. This latter shook his head several times, and considered the situation, which wasn't brilliant. Disarmed, bound by strong chains around his wrists, his uniform was torn and stained with blood. His face still bore traces of dark bludgeons and cuts, and he felt the sweat smearing his shirt.
He was in a huge dining room, lit by many candles arranged on the table and hung to copper chandeliers. Before him, an assortment of meals more appetising than the others were waiting to be tasted.
But the element that mostly held his attention was the individual who was sitting at the end of the table. This was a man who seemed great, even sat on the long chair back. His clothes made with precious fabrics didn't conceal an impressive build. His face was very pale, under his jet black mane. His eyes, especially, shone with a light which put the prisoner very uncomfortable. It emanated from his person a sense of authority and charisma so powerful that it seemed almost visible. However, his wasn't as large radiation like ordinary warlords, rather a veil of darkness that stifled all light, and any surrounding heat.
- Welcome to my home, Hallbjörn Ludviksson, Captain of the Guard of Emperor Karl Franz, officially. I understand that you are much more than that, unofficially, hence your presence here. You are an expert in ... "monsters hunt", you and your subordinates. Peace to their souls.
He raised a velvet gloved hand , and ordered with a deep and strong voice:
- Release our guest.
The imperial soldier struggled.
- You've heard, cow shits? Hands off!
He flung an elbow to the servant on his left, and the servant on his right received a bludgeon on his calf. The man sat behind the table replied with a weary voice:
- Captain Ludviksson... Please, show a little savoir vivre.
- What would you say if you were "invited" this way?
- Right... You've scored one point.
The house master clapped his hands twice. Immediately, the chains holding Hallbjörn's arms fell noisily on the floor. The Norse rubbed his wrists, and looked at his host with surprise. This latter leaned forward.
- Please, have a seat. Put yourself at ease, eat, drink. After what you faced, you deserve a little comfort.
The two servants were each placed in a corner of the room and waited. Hallbjörn did not move, his eyes heavy with suspicion.
The man sitting sighed annoyed and asked:
- Do you know who I am, master Ludviksson?
- You look like a lord, a Graf, or some kind of guy that commands, anyway.
- Indeed. I am Count Mannfred von Carstein. Does it sound familiar to you?
The Norse squinted.
- Vaguely. You rule this insane region?
- Yes. My family reign on Sylvania centuries. I am the last descendant of the von Carstein dynasty.
- Wait... Ah, I remember! Rumors say that you're a... rather unnatural character.
Mannfred von Carstein had a cruel smile. So Hallbjörn noticed his teeth. He had upper canines much longer than normal. He just needed a little time to remember what it meant. The Count decrypted the expression on the face of the Norse, and said with a cruel chuckle as well:
- Yes, you understood. I am a Vampire.
- Wow! And your... your subjects are aware of it?
This time, the Count burst into a powerful sneer.
- Of course they are! And I assure you they respect me, they even like me. They know who I really am. A vampire, but a leader of men first. I restored order and discipline, I united citizens of Sylvania under one banner. And, believe it or not, this has enabled us to... You're not born in the Empire, are you?
- No, but I lived there for some time.
- Do you know what the Storm of Chaos is?
- Yeah. The invasion of chaotic hordes came to mess up the Empire? They passed by my home country. I've learned they were stopped at Middenheim.
- Indeed. Lord of the End Times Archaon was the head of the horde. The direct intervention of Emperor Karl Franz, Archmage Teclis and Grand Theogonist Volkmar were needed to stop him. But know that my legions were there with me at their head. Without my intervention, the outcome of this battle might have been different.
- You eat people, you torture, you are a tyrant.
- It's true, I am a tyrant. A tyrant in a world where only the strongest and most ruthless may be necessary, and write history. And my subjects like me. They know they are sheep, and every flock needs a shepherd to lead them. In Sylvania, I am this shepherd. Humans need superior beings to lead them. They are not free, but they're satisfied with. And I don't eat people. I drink their blood, true, but not enough to kill. Some of my subjects even voluntarily give me their vital fluid, as my two servants behind you. Vampires are evil for you, but a necessary evil that make you live as long as possible. The farmer takes care of his cow, so it can provide milk. The cow will die of oldness or illness, but won't have to fear the wolf, well protected in its stable. You are the cow, I am the farmer. Even your emperor knows I'm a Vampire, and he doesn't make war against me because he knows that I am a lesser evil compared to other things much worse than me. Do you understand?
- Yeah, well... I think.
Mannfred von Carstein no longer smiled.
- Now you know who I am and what I can do, don't waste time in trifles. You are in the middle of my castle ,in the heart of my domain, deep in my land, in my country. You have absolutely no chance to escape. Now, if I wanted you dead, you would already be in a coffin and buried. Or... oh, forget it. So, useless to try anything stupid. You are my guest. The food is healthy, it is a young deer killed this morning, prepared with care by my best cook. The wine is a nice vintage, without being too exceptional, I grant you, after all, you're not someone as important as a Count Elector. There is no poison, no drugs or anything in this food. And I have no intention of harming you. So that you are worthy of my hospitality, I give you my word that you will leave this place and go home safe and sound. All I want is your version of the story about what happened at the Regenschirm manor. I don't pretend to know everything, sir Ludviksson, and if I have eyes and ears everywhere in Sylvania, I admit that what happened within the walls of this property has escaped me. But I'm curious to know what happened there while you and your men were in. My question is: could you satisfy my curiosity, in exchange for your life?
The Norse was not trusting by nature, much less vis-à-vis turned to darkness so openly people. But he felt exhausted by the events experienced in the last two days, and felt he wasn't in condition to face an opponent who looked so powerful. Also, he thought it was prudent to play the game according to his rules. He sat at the table, forked the steaming meat, sniffed it... apparently not poison. He ate a bite with caution. Nothing. The Count smiled slightly, and poured for himself a glass of reddish and thick drink contained in a black glass bottle.
- I'm listening you, sir Ludviksson. Eat without manners, I won't be shocked. Vassil, serve a glass of wine to our friend.
One of the servants approached the Norse and filled his glass of wine. Hallbjörn ate heartily and drank a few sips. Then he cleared his throat and said:
- I don't know if you could believe me, Count.
- I saw so much unbelievable things in centuries of unlife! There is not many things that might seem impossible to me. Surprise me.
